


Hidden Talents

by fangirl_squee



Series: homies help homies, always [37]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:12:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marius kneels down to pick up the scattered trophies. It’s not so surprising that Grantaire has trophies for things; he always seems to be able to help anyone with anything. Marius has a few certificates from school, mostly language awards, and he has been mentioned in the quarterly school newsletter for “academic achievement” once or twice, but nothing like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Talents

**Author's Note:**

> for 100shots100hits, who is just about to start university (I'm so proud of you!!!!!)
> 
> beta'd by the wonderful besanii
> 
> (and yes, I am still working on the next part of Blue Moon)

Marius finds the boxes when he’s looking for a place to hide Cosette’s birthday gift. He’s looking for somewhere safe, but not _so_ safe that he’ll forget where he put it forever, and the cupboard under the stairs seems like a viable option. There’s a stack of boxes, and Marius tries to move them to one side to see if there’s room. Unfortunately the boxes aren’t sealed, so as soon as Marius moves them, the bottom of one falls open. Several trophies and some yellowed newspaper fall to the floor. _National Wresting Championships: Second Place_ hits him on the foot, making Marius yelp and stumble backwards.

 

Grantaire comes out from the kitchen to see what the noise is about. “What are you - Oh.”

 

“Sorry,” says Marius, “I don’t think any of them broke?”

 

Marius kneels down to pick up the scattered trophies. It’s not so surprising that Grantaire has trophies for things; he always seems to be able to help anyone with anything. Marius has a few certificates from school, mostly language awards, and he has been mentioned in the quarterly school newsletter for “academic achievement” once or twice, but nothing like this.

 

He looks at one of the trophies as he picks them up, the tiny engraved writing proclaiming Grantaire to be a _National Athletics Champion in Long Distance_. Marius has vague memory of some of the kids from a few years above him getting out of school for a few days to take part in something like that, joking around as they got off the bus, waving medals and print outs of their personal bests. It had seemed like a pretty big deal to them at the time.

 

Grantaire kneels down next to him, pulling out one of the other boxes to put them in since the box they came from is broken. Marius can see more trophies and a tangle of blue ribbon.

 

“It’s okay,” says Grantaire, “I don’t really care if they get broken. I only kept them because Claire wanted me to.”

 

“Okay,” Marius says.

 

“I got half of those things by just turning up and hanging out with people,” says Grantaire.

 

Marius frowns. “I’m pretty sure they don’t just hand out awards at a nation level for just turning up.”

 

“You mean you never got dragged to one of these things?” Grantaire says, waving a bit of old newspaper a little for emphasis.

 

Marius shrugs, not meeting Grantaire’s eyes as he reaches for the last trophy. “I was never invited. I mean…I was never any good at anything like that.”

 

“Really?” says Grantaire, “I always kind of thought of you as a runner.”

 

“Only when the older guys were trying to beat me up,” Marius replies, “so I guess that’s sort of like a sprinting competition.”

 

Grantaire points at him with the trophy in his hand (there’s two tiny figures on the top of this one, Marius thinks it might be for some sort of dance competition). “I saw your awards for _academic excellence in language_ , you can’t fool me. Even if you did hide them behind that pile of books.”

 

“I’m not hiding them,” says Marius, protesting, “that’s just where I put them.”

 

“And _this_ ,” says Grantaire, gesturing to the cupboard, “is where I put mine. Why were you going through the cupboard anyway?”

 

“I was looking for somewhere to put Cosette’s gift so she doesn’t see it,” says Marius.

 

Grantaire laughs at that, crumpling one of the scraps of newspaper into a ball and throwing it at Marius.

 

Marius ducks. “That’s not fair – I saw your softball trophy. This is unfair use of hand-eye co-ordination.”

 

Grantaire balls up another piece of newspaper. Marius can see the headline: _DEBATE TEAM HEADS TO NATIONAL COMP-_ before Grantaire crumples it up. This time, he throws it into the air and catches it again, eyes following it’s movements through the air.

 

“I don’t know…I just never felt like any of this stuff was particularly special. People asked me to go to debate class or join the track team or whatever, and if it was fun I’d keep showing up.” Grantaire pauses, eyes fixed on the ball of paper. “I’d do the training or whatever, and then get stared at for showing any sort of talent come award season.”

 

“I don’t know why anyone would be surprised,” says Marius, shrugging, “I mean, you’ve always seemed like someone who had a lot of skills.”

 

Grantaire laughs, and it has a bitter edge to it. “Well you’d be the first then.”

 

“Really though,” says Marius, “you just give off, like, a vibe.”

 

Grantaire looks like he’s trying not to laugh this time. “A vibe?”

 

“Yes,” says Marius, “a skills vibe. As someone with no sporting ability you develop a sense about these things.”

 

“I could teach you, if you want. It’s seriously not hard,” says Grantaire.

 

Marius blinks. “Really?”

 

Grantaire shrugs. “Sure. I think I have some old sports stuff in my room somewhere.”

 

“Just warning you,” Marius says, “I’m really, _really_ terrible.”

 

Grantaire grins. “It’s easy once you know how it’s done, come on.”

 

Marius takes a trophy out to the box to keep track of what Grantaire tries to teach him. He’s just as awful at organised sports as he remembers, but Grantaire doesn’t seem to mind. Marius discovers that he’s still a pretty fast runner, faster even than Grantaire, and he surprises himself by being actually pretty good at tennis.

 

“You’re giving off some serious tennis talent vibes,” says Grantaire, as they pack up the net.

 

“Well, I guess I just had a good teacher,” says Marius.

 

Grantaire shoves his shoulder, and they grin at each other. They’re both sweaty and covered in grass stains, but it’s definitely the most fun Marius has ever had playing sports.

 

 

(When he comes home from travelling, Claire makes Grantaire take back the trophies, and Grantaire hates her a little. They don’t remind him of winning, they remind him of people staring at him in shock as they realised that _Grantaire_ had a _skill_.

 

Marius never gets that expression, not even when staring a box full of his old trophies, and Grantaire has never been happier about someone’s lack of surprise in his life.)

**Author's Note:**

> I chose ‘language awards’ for Marius since canonically he taught himself two languages in about a year which is pretty amazing. Grantaire canonically has about eight billion skills.


End file.
